Victoire Weasley's Little Sister
by SunlightHurtsMyEyes
Summary: "She was perfect. With no competition or doubt in anyone's mind. She was perfect. And you were her sister. And nothing else. you're Victoire Weasley's sister. And oh, sweetheart, aren't you jealous?"-A oneshot of Dominique's ongoing struggle to become her own person, and not just the Perfect Victoire's sister. Written for the Wand Wood Challenge run by HPFC.


**Another Dom/Vic angst fiction! This is my entry for the Wand Wood Challenge for Redwood! **

**Enjoy!**

I

"Oh are you Victoire Weasley's little sister?"

They always ask. It got worse when you started Hogwarts. You were proud, oh so proud, that you could even be seen to be related to someone so... Perfect. And so so lucky.

Because she was. Damn she was. With her perfectly straight, platinum blonde hair and her perfect figure, with her perfect teeth and perfectly eccentric blue eyes. Her grades were perfect. Her laugh was perfect. Just everything about her was so... Planned, as if she was moulded by gods.

Back then, it didn't bother you that no one knew your name. Or that no one knew that you excelled in Defence Against the Dark Arts. Or that whenever you said hi to your sister in the corridor, she ignored you.

Because you're Victoire Weasley's little sister. And nothing can change that.

II

"Oh are you Victoire Weasley's little sister?"

They continued to ask. Even though you were now a 3rd year and had put your heart and soul into becoming someone. Anyone. Just something other than that.

Of course, you didn't mind it. You didn't adore it, crave it, like you used to. But still, you put up with it.

You wondered, every day, every night, every waking moment, how she could be so lucky and perfect and brilliant and you could be... Well, you. How come you couldn't be a lucky and perfect and brilliant as your sister?

She was a prefect now, a glistening badge on her chest.

And prefect is almost spelt like perfect, and you know all too well that your older sister is the definition of perfect.

And oh, sweetheart, aren't you jealous?

You always are, but can you say anything? Can you live up to your perfect sister? Can you ever be noticed when your sister is THE Victoire Weasley?

I think we all know the answer to that.

Because you're Victoire Weasley's little sister. And nothing can change that.

III

"Oh are you Victoire Weasley's little sister?"

They were still asking. You had become a bold and rebellious 5th year, no gleaming badge for you.

"You just weren't what we were looking for." Is how they ever so nicely out it. But you weren't ever so nice back, were you?

You made rude gestures and swore like a muggle sailor, cussing in both French and English, swearing upon Merlin's himself.

Victoire, on the other hand, is head girl, a different badge glistening upon her chest.

And oh, sweetheart, aren't you jealous?

You always are. Haven't you learnt that by now?

But you've finally got something she hasn't, don't you?

Because you have Teddy's heart, and nothing can change that.

While she was discussing CAREER OPTIONS with Percy over Christmas dinner, you and Teddy were exchanging mad grins, playing footsie, making faces. While she is outside on a walk with everyone else, the two of you stay back because you're too lazy.

And he kisses you.

All the angels that were charmed to fly, zoomed around you, the mistletoe hanging high above your heads, the smell of Christmas filling the air.

And it's passionate and forbidden and loving and Merlin you crave it.

You finally have your little bit of luck and perfection, and it's enough. For now at least.

But you can't tell anyone.

No because Victoire wants Teddy, and everyone thinks she should get him. They wouldn't approve, not in a million years, so you sneak kisses and hide your cheeky grins when they're around.

Because you're Victorie Weasley's little sister. And nothing can change that.

IV

"Are you Victoire Weasley's little sister?"

They still ask, even over a year after she left Hogwarts.

Now you're a wise and wicked 7th year, clinging to your last year of school. Your options are wide open, even if you did almost fail all your O.W.L.'s. You pulled it together pretty well, the late night study classes and extra assignments were paying off. You're predicted to get higher than Victoire, which isn't difficult because she didn't do too well either.

She's working in a bar now, jumping from boyfriend to boyfriend, her good looks paying her way.

You guess her luck's beginning to run out and yours is just beginning. And you love every moment of it.

She still pines after Teddy, which makes you laugh because he's yours and you're his and you love it that way.

Everyone was beginning to think you were gay, as they didn't know about yours and Teddy's dirty little secret, did they?

But oh, darling, you've always loved a good secret, especially when it's dirty.

But soon it'll be over, because after you finish Hogwarts, you're going to run off the glistening scarlet train and jump straight into his arms and kiss him

Because that's the only way to tell everyone.

You've been ignoring her lately. Ignoring the Queen of Perfection, your devil. She's been writing more, but you just throw them away.

That's the Slytherin in her, and god she loves it, even if no one else does.

Victoire used to tease you about it, blaming her slightest imperfections on it, as if it was some sort of disease, something to be ashamed of. But no one stopped her, did they? No one dare stand up for Dom, especially not against her.

Because your Victoire Weasley's little sister. And nothing can change that.

V

She's gone.

For good.

And she's never coming back.

And it's all your fault.

You knew as soon as you jumped off the train and saw she wasn't there that something was wrong. Your plan to run into Teddy's open and awaiting arms failed because your world slowed, your mouth dried, as soon as you saw the look on their faces.

She was supposed to be there. But she wasn't. So where was she?

You were frantic, screaming at them, demanding that they tell you where she was, and when they couldn't, you ran.

You ran all the way to her flat.

And all you could think about was how the writing had gotten more frequent recently, at least an owl a day.

But you ignored her.

Because you hate her.

No, you hated her.

Because you can't hate a dead person.

You ran into her flat, and there she was.

Her pale skin oozing a glistening scarlet red, her eyes closed, her body laid collapsed on the floor, the carpet stained, her hair fanning out and framing the picture that you saw before you.

Your sister, your perfect sister, was dead.

And it was your fault.

Her luck ran out.

But even in death, the perfection's still there.

Because she looked god damn beautiful lying there oozing red.

So beautiful you couldn't tear your eyes away.

Teddy came in soon after you, and pulled you away, screaming from the scene. Everyone got there, and they were all yelling and screaming and crying, but you couldn't hear them. You couldn't hear anyone. And Teddy pulled you back, holding you in his arms, as you cried and screamed for all it was worth.

A simple white HEADSTONE saying,

'Victorie Weasley,

Perfection and luck at its best'

But now they don't ask if you're Victoire Weasley's sister anymore.

All these years, and this is what it took for it to stop.

But you'd give anything to have it back now.

Because you were Victoire Weasley's sister. And nothing can change that.


End file.
